Hermione stood on the edge of the Black Lake watching tiny bubbles rise to the surface every few minutes. Lost in thought, she could only imagine what wonderful creatures lurked in the murky water below. Although she had been involved in the second task this year for the Triwizard Tournament, she had no recollection of how she was helped back to the surface or what the bottom of the lake even looked like. She watched as the large ship belonging to the Durmstrang students floated lazily in the distance like a child's toy in a bathtub.
She sighed and picked up a small pebble, tossing it in the water and watching as it broke the surface and made small ripples on its way down. A low rumbling in the distance broke her reverie and she looked back in the direction of the castle. Slinking low in the sky were intimidating gray storm clouds, moving in her direction. I should probably go. . . .
With the third task still a few weeks away, she thought about what could be worse than fighting off dragons and things like grindylows as she made her way slowly to the castle. She could think of only one thing: Ron's jealousy. It was something that often invaded her thoughts during long lectures in Professor Binn's History of Magic class or when she was trying to concentrate on a particularly difficult rune translation. The memory of Ron's contemptuous looks during the Yule Ball and the way he spat out Viktor's name as though he was something nasty to avoid stepping in made Hermione wonder. Never had he, Ron, shown much interest in her before, but it was hard to ignore how quickly her best friend had gone from worshiping the ground Viktor walked on to openly loathing him.
Preoccupied with her thoughts, she climbed the stone steps to the castle, making it inside just as the rain began to fall and smacking into a very solid object.
"Oh!" she cried, "I'm sorry."
As she looked up to see who it was, Hermione noticed the familiar rounded shoulders and thick, dark eyebrows of Viktor Krum. He turned and gave her a small smile, steadying her with one large hand.
"I vas looking for you," he said in his thick accent. "Vould you like to have dinner vith me?"
Hermione smiled and nodded silently, enjoying the way he looked at her as if he wasn't sure of her response. Viktor took her hand and lead her towards the Great Hall where a smattering of students sat at various tables eating and chatting amongst each other. Hermione would never admit it out loud, but she liked the way the Hogwarts girls turned to look at them as they entered, some giving her dirty looks and others simply in awe. It reminded her vaguely of the way people used to look whenever she was with Harry, but that had subsided over the years.
Viktor lead them over to the Gryffindor table and sat beside her without a word. Hermione was used to silence when they spent time together, as he wasn't the most talkative person in the world. She smiled up at him again and blushed when his eyes met hers.
"You look beautiful today, Hermy-own-ninny," he said in his usual subdued tone.
Hermione felt a smile stretch over her face and helped herself to a goblet of pumpkin juice.
"Thank you, Viktor."
Hermione had always considered herself lucky to have Harry and Ron as her best friends. They naturally gravitated to each other after confronting a Mountain troll in their first year and had been virtually inseparable ever since. It wasn't until Viktor started talking to her that she even recognized the other kind of attention she was missing. Harry and Ron never wrote to her during summer holidays or listened when she tried to talk. She thought that she and Ron had chemistry, but never did he come out and say anything. She liked being admired. It was a rush of excitement to catch Viktor glancing at her from across the Great Hall or see him sitting in the library when she entered and she welcomed it.
She still remembered the first day he had spoken to her. She was sitting at a secluded table in the back of the library, sitting amongst a pile of dusty textbooks when he slouched over to her.
"Vould you mind if I sat vith you?" he asked in a moody voice. At first she wasn't sure whether he had mistaken her for someone else. After all, she was well aware of the throng of giggly Hogwarts girls who followed him relentlessly wherever he went.
"Erm, not at all," she responded, pushing aside a stack of books to make room for him. He sat down heavily in the chair across from her and went silent for a few minutes, watching her work. Hermione shifted nervously from time to time, acutely aware of his eyes on her and waited for him to talk.
"You are friends vith Potter, yes?" he asked after a long period of silence.
"Yes, I am. He and I are good friends," she responded. "Why do you want to know? I'm not going to tell you anything to help you cheat, if that's what you want."
"No, no. I vas vondering. . . ." He let his sentence trail off and looked down at his hands, folded in his lap. Hermione looked up from her essay, curious about what he was trying to say.
"What then?"
"I vas vondering if he vas your date to the ball." The words came out quickly and Hermione felt a fluttering sensation deep in her stomach. She bit the inside of her cheek and couldn't help but smile at his obvious discomfort. So he wasn't used to asking out girls. . . .
"Oh, erm, I haven't got a date," she answered, feeling her cheeks redden. "Were you hoping to ask Harry, then?" She watched as he smiled and looked up at her, shaking his head. She let out a small nervous giggle and looked down at her essay.
"I vas actually vanting to ask you," he said. "Vould you go to the Yule Ball vith me?"
His question sent a rush of new nervousness flooding through her and she bit her lip, not wanting to answer too quickly. It wasn't like her to get excited over receiving attention from a boy.
"I would like that," she answered.
After their first meeting in the library, Hermione noticed that Viktor would go out of his way to see her in between classes and during meal times. Every once in a while, they would take a stack of toast with them and walk the grounds, talking about their how their schools differed and what his plans were after he was finished this year. Hermione felt as though she had stumbled into a dream. Viktor wanted to know everything about her, from her class schedule to her favorite flower, and it made her feel important.
"Haff you been out of the country before?" he asked one breezy day in November.
"Once or twice," Hermione nodded.
"I vould like it if you came to see me this summer." He spoke quietly, as usual, but Hermione was sure she had heard him wrong.
"Why?" she asked while they found a spot by the lake to sit. A large willow tree stood alone on the water's edge, its long branches extending past the bank to dip its tips in the water, and creating a curtain of sorts. Hermione was glad for this, as it hid them from the sudden flock of Ravenclaw girls that strolled nearby, craning their necks to see where Viktor had gone.
"You are vonderful," Viktor explained, not quite meeting her eyes, "and I haff enjoyed your company." He leaned up against the large tree trunk and watched her sit in the grass.
"Oh," Hermione said. Never had she been called anything but "clever" or "Mudblood" that she could remember. His words made a warmth spread inside her stomach and she shivered.
"Are you cold?" he asked. He immediately shrugged out of the fur-lined crimson cloak and draped it around her shoulders, leaving his arm at the small of her back.
"Erm, thank you," Hermione said, feeling a blush spread across her cheeks. The wind ruffled her hair and she found warmth in the circle of his arms. She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder. "You're the first boy to ever tell me that."
"Vell it's true. You are perfect."
Hermione glanced up at him and smiled when their eyes met. Viktor's expression was still solemn, but there was a hint of something else mingled on his face. She started to look away but felt a finger catch her chin and tilt it back up to look at him and lost her voice. Viktor licked his lips and moved his face slowly down to hers, looking into her eyes with an intensity she hadn't seen before.
His lips met hers lightly at first, as though his nervousness was holding him back. Hermione took a sharp breath and pressed her lips to his with confidence, moving closer to him. His hand pressed against her back and the cloak slipped down her shoulders, exposing her to the Autumn breeze. She shivered again and deepened the kiss, enjoying the feeling of his arms around her.
Viktor was the one to pull away, looking as though he had just played a long game of Quidditch. Hermione looked down and began to move away from him, but his hand caught hers again.
"Stay," he said quietly. She looked up at him and saw a smile playing across his face. He pulled her onto his lap and fixed the large cloak around her again to keep her warm.